


Watcher

by otterdictator



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Cutting, Former ff.net trash, M/M, Masturbation, Reposting old works, Self-Harm, Stalker!Spy, Why did I think this was a good idea to write?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-10 22:22:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 8,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4410002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otterdictator/pseuds/otterdictator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Do you see my shadow? The shadow of an invisible man? Ah...dear Medic, don't cry, I'll make everything better." Reposted from FF.net. Squicky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I wrote this years ago when I first got into the TF2 craze, back when you actually had to buy TF2 before you could play it. I'll try to work up the necessary willpower to finish this trainwreck of a story. 
> 
> Some people may recognize this fic from FF.net or TF2chan. I posted it on TF2chan first and after a while migrated to FF.net. Now I'm posting it here because I can. I'll also be editing it a little to make the wording more readable.
> 
> I don't own or make money off of TF2. This story is a squick-fest and all the characters are terrible.

The night air is crisp, almost cold. My suit keeps me warm as I watch you sleeping from your window. The moonlight plays across your skin, making you paler than you already are.

I wonder; would you be able to sleep so soundly if you knew I was here?

It is somewhat strange to see you like this, your face relaxed and peaceful. When I normally see you, you have this look of concentration. I think you are too worried about your job. People die, BLU Medic, there isn't anything you can do about it.

I shift my feet a little, balancing on your window ledge is a bit of a tricky task, but not enough of one to make me stop these visits. Perhaps it is unprofessional of me to lust after an enemy, but I have always taken risks. I am really taken by you, BLU Medic, but you don't know why.

I remember that time, when I started to lust for you. I don't love you, love is something I cannot afford on this battle field; but I allow myself lust.

Yes, that time when I realized that I did want you. You were in your room, looking depressed (I believe that was the day that my team killed your team's Heavy). I was watching you from your closet, with orders from my leader to kill you. I was about to do so, your back had been to me, when you did _that_. I couldn't believe it. I never thought you to be someone to resort to such methods of stress relief. It was interesting to see you using, stereotypically enough, a scalpel to cut yourself.

You weren't suicidal, I assumed, since you cut across your wrists instead of down. Seeing your blood flow was wonderful enough, but what you did after was the best part. It made me so very aroused to see you digging your fingers into the cut; the soft painful noises you made were like fine wine, warm and rich. It was a pleasant surprise to see that you enjoy pain; I couldn't bring myself to kill you that night.

Those memories are excellent and I plan to add some more to my collection.

You shiver in your sleep, then settle down. The rise and fall of your chest slow and smooth, the pale skin begging to be marred; to be covered in scarlet lines. I can see the self-inflicted scars from my viewpoint, the moonlight highlighting them. I imagine opening those scars up, cutting just a little deeper than you did, and digging my fingers in. I wish, _I need_ , to hear you make those painful sounds; to have you gasp my name in a strangled voice as I carve shapes into your chest. I might even fuck you if you arouse me enough, though you have to be willing for that. I will not rape you, I have standards after all.

Ah, the sun is starting to rise, it is time for me to go. I will be back tomorrow BLU Medic, for now, adieu.


	2. Storms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably should feel some shame for writing this. 
> 
> Meh, too much effort required.

It is dark outside BLU Medic, and you are curled up on your bed. Do stormy days scare you that much? Interesting development, I must remember this. You are awake, so I must stay cloaked, though I doubt that you would notice me.

You haven't stopped cutting yourself, it is most pleasing; but I wonder when your logical side will take over. Cutting always holds a chance of infection, or permanent damage. Gloves cover your arms, hiding those beautiful scars; I wonder if anyone on your team has seen them. I don't think so; you are very meticulous in a way befitting a Medic.

Thunder peals and you flinch, curling up tighter. Are you crying? I cannot tell, the thick glass that separates us does not let sound through. Lightening flashes. 

Have you noticed my flickering shadow on the floor? A shadow of a hidden man, when there should be no one watching you. Your back is to the window, so I assume that you have not noticed.

It is sweetly tempting to open your window and slink into your room; to get out of the wind and rain. I think you would welcome some company, even if from your enemy. Seeing your weak side is most satisfying; flawed souls are the most beautiful of all. You are broken, there is no doubt of that; seeing the way that you shiver in your lonely room.

I fancy taking you into my arms; comforting you as my drenched clothing saps your warmth away. Rocking you, listening to whatever worries you have, nodding and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Pulling out my knife and drawing it across your skin to help you relax (as I have seen you do before), marking proof of my visit. Then lulling you to sleep, perhaps placing a kiss on your forehead (simply to indulge myself), tucking you into your bed before leaving. Maybe staying in your room to watch you sleep; to admire the way that your soul is fractured.

I shake my head, a fantasy such as this will never happen. The risk of doing something like this is too high, and there is little to be gained (except some memories for my personal enjoyment). What little information I may get from learning your personal problems will not help much on the battle field. You are too disciplined to let your emotions get in the way during a fight.

My team doesn't know that I visit you like this, they would not approve if they did know. Taking such unnecessary risks is unlike me, yet for some reason I cannot stop watching you. It is not love. I know it is not love. My wish to comfort you is pure fallacy; a momentary slip in sanity.

It is almost time for my team's meeting, I must go. Till we meet again BLU Medic.

Adieu.


	3. Drugs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for drugging a group of people without their consent and consumption of excessive amounts of sodium chloride. 
> 
> Also, blood.

It is another night BLU Medic, only this time, things are a little different. You are asleep, like usual. The difference is that I _know_ that you will not wake up when I enter your room. It is most satisfying for me to see you drugged, and know that I am the cause of your unnatural sleep.

It wasn't hard to slip some powder into your food, well actually your entire team's food. Your Pyro is remarkably careless when he cooks, not paying any attention to the ingredients that he placed in tonight's soup. I am disgusted that the man apparently has no taste buds, salt is not supposed to be used by the cup. Of course, it wasn't really pure salt that he added, unluckily for you.

The drug was meant to be used in small quantities, so the victim is half-awake when its effects are fully felt. 

Next time I suppose.

I carefully open the window, slowly sliding the frame along. It won't do to have any sort of noise, though all of BLU wouldn't notice if I fired a cannon next to their heads.

Sometimes drugs are better than knives.

I am in your room, tonight's moonlight giving off a weak glow. It makes your exposed skin look like ivory. It must be uncomfortable to sleep on the floor (it was amusing to see you stumble and fall to ground, the drugs taking effect before you could get into bed). Shall I be kind and make you more comfortable?

I will indulge myself just this once, there is little chance of being caught.

You are not as heavy as I thought doctor. It is easy to pick you up and lay you on your bed. My fingers ghost along your face, removing your glasses and placing them on your desk. Your boots provide a challenge, I am tempted to cut them open, but I doubt you will like that. Once your boots are off, I place them neatly at the base of your bed. Your pants, coat, and shirt are easy to remove, sliding off with a soft whisper, exposing pale flesh underneath. I leave your boxers and gloves on, for the…aesthetic value. Your body is more slender than my team's medic, more beautiful. I reach out a hand and run it across your stomach, feeling hard muscles and your slow, even breathing. I want to take off a glove and _really_ touch you; to **_feel_** the texture of your skin on mine, instead of through my glove. But I won't. I will not be leaving any evidence of my visit.

There is something so very sinful about cutting someone who is asleep. You can't feel my blade, your face is peaceful (not twisted with pain like I want it to be). I keep my cuts light, just deep enough to draw blood. My breath is slightly harsh, it is strangely arousing to cut a person who does not respond. The cuts are elegant, long and smooth; looking like scarlet ribbons on your skin. When I am done, I take a step back and look at my work. Your body is laced with cuts, blood vivid against pale skin; I fix this image in my memory, it is a masterpiece.

I glance at my watch, time is growing short. I have to destroy what I have created for the sake of stealth (I regret this, but my job comes first). Picking up your medi-gun, I use it to heal the cuts on your chest, sighing regretfully. My handkerchief is sacrificed to clean the blood off your body, its pure white stained with red. Strangely enough, it is almost easier to get you back into your clothes than it was to remove them. When you are dressed, I lay you on the floor, just as you were before I entered your room.

Quietly, I leave. Sliding the window shut and locking it from the outside (you really should think about replacing these locks, but they make my job easier), I stall for a moment to take a last look at you. You will wake up in a couple of hours, with nothing more than slightly aching muscles from sleeping on the floor. There will be no trace of my…activities, besides a slight drain in your medi-gun's power.

Good night doctor. I will be back tomorrow, for now adieu.


	4. Fantasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There be fapping.

It is dark outside BLU Medic, but I'm not watching you. Your BLU Sniper had made sure that I can't go outside tonight. I have to admit, his intuition is very good; especially since he managed to stab me before I stabbed him. The wound hurts, I must make sure to pay him back later; though I won't be stabbing him in the lungs, I'll be stabbing him in the back of his neck.

Urgh…this really does hurt (not so badly that I will complain though). At least I am not coughing up blood anymore; that is an experience that I rather not repeat (how can Sniper _like_ the flavor of blood? It is disgusting). The ceiling of the medic bay is imperfect, whitewash flaking away in spots, hair thin cracks snaking along. How boring.

What are you doing right now BLU Medic? Sleeping? Crying? Or maybe…cutting? I have only managed to watch you cut yourself twice, though the multiple scars on your arms indicate you cut yourself far more often than that. Where do you cut yourself? In the shower were the water will wash away the blood? I must find out. I should find out about your routines, that way I can watch you more closely, perhaps even drug you again (those memories are my favorite).

I close my eyes, a slight growl of frustration slipping from my lips. I do not appreciate this change in my routine, my visits to you are important to me. My mind drifts, there is nothing to do.

What would it be like to really touch you BLU Medic?

It is easy to imagine your smooth skin quivering under my touch; your breath hitching as my fingers gently pinch your nipple. Perhaps your skin will taste like sweat and fear, as my tongue glides over it. I will leave some bites on your shoulder, to remind you that I was there, to mark you as mine. I'll touch you, grasping your cock and stroking in just the right way to make you gasp. As you moan, I'll kiss you, to see that sound tastes like anything.

Your hips buck against my hand, seeking relief from the wonderful pressure you feel. I'll squeeze and rub, doing everything I can to bring you to an orgasm. What noise will you make when you cum? A soft gasp or a cry of pleasure? I look forward to finding out. (however, I'm stuck in my team's medic bay with nothing but my mind and my hand to keep me company)

Suddenly, your moans of pleasure will turn to moans of a different sort of release. I'll carve lines into your flesh (these will be deeper than last time), pull off a glove and dip my fingers in the blood. My bloody fingers will slip into your mouth and let you taste the flavor of your own blood. I visualize you, sprawled on your bed, the sheets starting to be stained a lovely red (a color that never, never lasts). The cuts will make a pattern; a pattern that is beautiful and special, made just for you.

The medic bay is definitely not a place to think such…thoughts. My cock is fully aroused, aching for release. I glance at the door of Medic's room, there is a high probability that he is asleep. Unfortunately, the man has the ears of a fox and tends to wake up to any sound louder than a pin dropping. I'll just have to be quiet then.

I slip a hand under the sheets of the bed (these beds are terrible, I think Medic does this on purpose to keep us out of here), and grasp my cock, sliding my fingers over it. Ah…it feels good. My fingers wrap around it and begin to stroke, gently first then harder. It has been a while since I last did anything like this. Soft noises are leaking from my mouth as my hand pumps up and down with increasing speed. I mentally flip through all my memories of you, my BLU Medic. It isn't hard to find the one I'm looking for, I focus on it, trying to immerse myself in the fantasy.

I gasp, arching upward and cumming hard into my hand. I collapse onto the (crappy) bed, sweating slightly. Ouch, hopefully I did not pull out the stitches, Medic will kill me if I did (I am not joking, Medic is more homicidal than Soldier, and that is saying something). I relax slightly, it seems that Medic has not noticed my…activities.

I'll be out of the medic bay in a week BLU Medic. Then our little meetings will continue as they have before.

I blow a kiss toward the BLU base. Till I am out of this wretched excuse of a medic bay BLU Medic. Adieu.


	5. Distraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omake time. Have silly, be derpy.

"Hey Spy!" I turn round, my team's Scout bouncing (literally) over to my spot on the roof. Annoying child, I don't understand the logic of having a hyped up high school jock on a battle tried unit.

I came up here to get away from the rest of RED and have some time to enjoy a cigarette. Then this annoying little /flea/ comes by.

Said annoying flea sits down next to me with an ungraceful thump. Dear God, has this child never learned about stealth? I suppose not, it isn't a part of his job after all.

"Spy?"

"Hm?" Giving a full response is a waste of energy; energy I am saving for tonight's visit to the BLU Medic.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

What brought this insanity on? I am rendered speechless by the sheer randomness of the question. We are in a war you annoying boy, not some romance novel. A girlfriend? What goes on in this boy's min-…Oh. Oh right. (How could I forget?)

"...Spy? Spyyyyyy? Earth to Spy." I start violently, scrabbling away from Scout's hand (which he was waving in front of my face).

"Merde! Stupid brat, do that again and I will stab you." I curse at myself, I have gotten careless lately; that won't do.

"Geeze dude, I was just asking a question." Scout looks hurt, his eyes reminiscent of a kicked puppy. I hate dogs (never had any good memories of them).

"Don't bother me Scout."

"Come on! I'm just asking a question." Annoying brat, go away.

"…that is one question too many."

"Answer it and I'll leave I promise!" Fine, you better do that Scout, or my butterfly knife will be introducing itself to your spine.

I sigh, "I do not have a girlfriend Scout."

"Oh, so no girlfriend right now? Sucks man."

"Correction, I have never had a girlfriend Scout." The look on the boy's face is priceless.

"What!?" Scout's shocked voice makes my ears hurt. I am tempted to cloak and go someplace quieter. "Fuck man, why not!?"

I resist the temptation to roll my eyes. Isn't sexual education a requirement in schools now these days?

Then I get an idea, I grind my cigarette out on the tin shingles that cover the roof. Oh…this will be fun (dicking around with an innocent brain is always amusing).

I snake an arm over Scout's shoulder, pulling him over. "Scout." I purr. "Not every man likes women." The boy gapes at me, his mind not processing my words.

"H-hey man. What are you talking about?" Oblivious to the last, I'll just have show him then.

I slide a hand over his knee and up to his stomach, pressing extra hard when I pass over his groin. Scout looks like he is about to have a heart attack; body frozen like that of a rabbit about to eaten by a wolf. My tongue flicks over his ear, eliciting a gasp of surprise.

"Scout…" My voice is low and breathy as I push him down and straddle his waist. My left hand drawing circles on his stomach, the other pushing up his shirt to expose his chest. I move my left hand down to his crotch and rub, smiling as I feel him harden.

"S-spy" He gasps, more in pleasure than in shock. I smirk at him, then stand up. He is obviously aroused, but I'm not interested in boys. He looks so flustered, a nice change compared to his usual look. I straighten my clothing and walk away, lighting another cigarette.

"Scout." I look over my shoulder at him and smirk in a way that would make the devil proud. "Don't bother me when I'm smoking."

As I walk away to find another spot to smoke, I hear him yelling.

"Mutherfucking asshole!"


	6. Siege

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Squicky descriptions.

Hello Blue Medic, it has been a while hasn't it? Have you missed me?

Ah, silly question, since we have never met in the light of day.

I am well, if you are interested, if a bit battered from the foolish task that my team sent me on. The mission was most...successful. No doubt you already noticed; not recieving any supplies for the last few months is quite the eye opener.

You've gotten so skinny, have you been sharing your food with that whiny American brat? Now, now, now, we can't have that can we? If you get sick there will be no one to keep your team healthy.

...then again, if they all die I may be able to keep you. Hm...the possibilities are most...interesting.

I must say, I rather dislike how you look now. Fragile but strong, that is what drew me to you, now you look...starved. Men should not look like dolls, dolls are just mockery of the human form. Part of this is my fault, I did not forsee the possible effects of cutting off your food supply. No matter, it will be remedied soon enough.

Despite the gauntness of your face, you still look beautiful. In a perverse way. The way that concentration camp victims have that look of sadness. I cannot quite describe it, perhaps the words will come to me later. Ironic isn't it, especially given your country's history.

Are you cold? The weather is very nice right now, perfect for star gazing. Star gazing...how would you like to do that? [and get your head blown off by that psuedo-british moron.] For all these fanciful thoughts, I highly doubt you would stay awake long enough to stare at the sky. Those dark circles under your eyes tell me you haven't had much sleep. Poor Medic, you suffer so.

I lick my lips, how I long to taste your skin. The beautiful picture you made, all those nights ago, flashes in my mind. I will have you Blue Medic. Perhaps very soon.

Adieu, till we meet again.


	7. Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More derping. Yay....

Ah...Medic this is such a tragic turn of events, for you at least...what are you going to do now? The little Boston rat betrayed you. If I wasn't so distracted by the way that those handcuffs chafe your skin, I might spend some time gloating.

Well...I might as well gloat, you aren't going anywhere any time soon.

The boy was almost too easy to manipulate.

Especially after I let Sniper tame the little terrier.

It was delicious. Simply delicious. The boy _worships_ everything about the Brit-bastard. Especially his cock, which is somewhat annoying when trying to sleep.

I've been sleeping on the couch for the last few days, since I share a room with Sniper. What was that word...hm...ah! Right, for the last few weeks I've been 'sexiled' from **my** room. Now that you are here...it is time for some creative...revenge.

What? You really thought that the supply trucks where delayed due to technical difficulties? Well...it isn't completely untrue...you can't drive it you have no hands.

Don't worry about your precious team, I am not going to do anything like last time. Can't promise that the rest of my team will do the same.

I suppose you want to say something, but sadly the gag will stay in till I can trust you. After all, you are mine now.

Sniper will be down to question you soon, I have to wait for my fun.

...

Just a taste of your skin. It won't hurt. He won't know.

Just a taste.

Your face is crinkled with disgust as I lick your bloodied cheek.

It's...divine. The salt of your sweat mixed with the heady scent of fear and rage. It tastes so good. I can't imagine what the rest of your body tastes like...I will find out...yes...

This feels so good...

"Fucking HELL."

"Hm...if yah say so mate...hm..."

Stupid British dingo, I would murder you now in your sleep, but I have to clean my suit.

Pryo better not have used up all the laundry detergent.

Fucking wet dreams.


	8. Retribution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Return to the disturbing. 
> 
> Squicky.

Today was not a good day for me. First the good BLU doctor evaded my attempts to corner him (I wasn't even going to do anything too painful). Second the damned BLU Pyro set me on fire, ruining my new suit and I ended up in the respawn room stark naked (due that completely incompetent Engineer doing something to the programming).

Third, said incompetent Engineer was lounging on my bed, comfortable as can be.

"What. Are. You. Doing."

A slow, sultry, almost sadistic smile inches across your Californian face (not all Engineers are from Texas). "Obviously waiting for you." Getting off the bed, you stretch and slink toward my door. Stopping by my side, (disgusting American, you need to shave) you purr softly in my ear.

"Yah know, that BLU Doctor is quite the treat."

What.

"Really are protective of him aren't yah? Yah fucking psycho freak." You smirk, infuriatingly smug, "Suppose yah haven't touched him, from the way that he was begging me earli-"I kick you, slamming my foot into your chest, cracking a rib and causing you to gasp and choke for air.

You dirty pathetic American dare touch the BLU Medic, he is mine! Mine to play with. Mine to torture. MINE. I will wring every last drop of blood from your body for your insolence.

"…and he screams sooooo loud when he's cut…ahahaaa…you're such an impatient fuck, can't believe you haven't even touched him yet…"

Interesting, when did I pull out my butterfly blade? That doesn't matter much, since it is so attractively embedded in your lung.

You gurgle so wonderfully on your own blood. Though I'll have to clean this suit later, killing you will be a rather messy task. I do not intend for you to die quickly or painlessly. But not in my room, bloodstains are rather difficult to remove from wooden floors.

The cellar will do nicely, but it is two flights of stairs below me. Lucky for you, dear teammate, my door is very close to the stairway.

I might as well kick you down the stairs, I refuse to carry a piece of trash like you. If you die on the way down, then I suppose I will let Demoman fuck your broken corpse.

xXx

It takes a while, but we do finally make it to the cellar. You haven't died yet, dear teammate, which is impressive, though I doubt you will feel any of the pain that I will inflict on you. Breaking most of the bones in your body tends to send people into a state of shock after all.

It is a little difficult to figure out what I will do with you now. Originally I was going to vivisect you…but you won't feel the pain, considering how far gone you are.

Perhaps I will let Demoman fuck you after all. It will be appropriately humiliating and Demoman will owe me a favor. Yes, that is fine.

xXx

It is rather interesting listening to your pathetic whimpers dear teammate of mine. Demoman is quite rough, fucking you hard enough to make you scream in pain, even though shock and blood loss has dulled the sensations a bit.

Dear Engineer, don't worry, Demoman won't let you die till I say so. So you can enjoy every moment of your current situation to the fullest.

I will admit I am taking a good deal of pleasure from listening to you moan and gurgle. The range of pain filled noises you make is almost impressive dear teammate, but not what I really want. I am growing bored of watching you, besides I need to go and pay a visit to the good BLU Medic.

If it turns out you were lying just to infuriate me, then I will be gracious and kill you.

If it turns out that you were telling the truth, then I will make you live to regret it. After all, our Medic owes me some favors.


	9. Malice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would comment about how odd it is that I wrote this in highschool...except this is exactly what I remember thinking was interesting when I was in highschool.
> 
> Not that I've actually changed since then...

Ah, my dear BLU Medic, it has been too long. I apologize, I have been rather busy. Torturing my beloved teammate, you know him, the RED Engineer.

I am rather...displeased that you let him touch you.

So willingly let him caress your skin and pierce your flesh. It makes me slightly sick. But it makes my vengeance so much sweeter.

Now, now, don't look so horrified. I haven't done anything to you (not when you where awake at least), so don't look at me as if I am killing your lover.

Oh, wait. I am killing him. Never mind then.

Don't look so sad, he isn't suffering. Not yet anyway. You'll suffer a good deal more once I am done with him. You let yourself fall from the pedestal that I loving placed you on. So, I have to put you back on it, for my sake.

"Leave us."

Your Sniper nods and exits the room, he was too kind, gift wrapping you for me. If you are wondering, he owes me a few...favors.

It is amazing what a blowjob can buy you.

Now, back to business dear Medic. I am very unhappy with you. Very unhappy indeed. But that will change, so enough. Men are weak to the pleasures of flesh, which is what he offered you.

Perhaps I was foolish to wait. I should have fully claimed you sooner, then you would not have surrendered to the Californian. Enough regrets, the past is the past.

I'll fix this situation soon enough.

My dear BLU Medic, I can tell that you are wondering how your beloved dalliance is still alive. It isn't healthy for bones to be protruding from his skin in such a way, is it. Or for his skin to be almost red-black with bruises and scrapes.

I do apologize for the bruising, Demoman is rather rough and there is only so much that a Medigun can force a body to heal.

You shouldn't beg so tearfully dear Medic, it does not befit you. Besides, your words are most futile.

Hm? My beloved teammate's screams for mercy where rather annoying after a while, so I had his vocal cords removed. It was rather messy I am afraid, which is why he has that hole in his neck. See? Demoman liked it very much.

Are you going to be sick? That is fine, I was rather queasy myself when I saw how passionate Demoman was. Don't worry about making a mess, the floor is made of concrete for a reason.

Well, well, so it seems you still have some life left in you beloved teammate. Such a weak grip, amusing, but I do not appreciate the blood you are getting on my shoes. You know what the punishment for that is don't you?

It's hard to beg for mercy with your eyes when you only have one isn't it? You remember that part so well, I can read it from the way you cringe. No matter how adorably you cower from me, I am still going to call Demoman.

Hush dear Medic, nothing bad will happen to you. There is no need to scream at me.

It takes just a moment to call in my deranged teammate. He does so love to fuck warm, living bodies. Or bodies that aren't alive. Or things that where never alive to begin with.

Back on topic.

"Go ahead."

Demoman is holding back. You can't tell of course, but I assure you he is being gentle. Surprising, but I suppose he wants this last fuck to last. He owes me so many favors right now. Though now that I think of it, it will be difficult to obtain a new Engineer.

Such is life.

I have not seen that before. I'm not sure if I am impressed or disgusted. Livers are not meant to be used that way, not that Demoman cares.

Oh, dear Medic, are you really so naïve? I can practically feel myself purring.

Of course I am sick and twisted. I volunteered to come here, did you not know that? I suppose not, it isn't common knowledge. But, yes, I am enough of a monster to have my own teammate raped to death. And you are going to be here for every last moment of his life. You don't have to look of course, but the sounds will haunt you even if you shut your eyes.

You might want to look away though. Eye socket fucking is not pretty.

You are welcome to cry dear Medic. I, on the other hand, am going to savor every last minute of the Californian's demise. It's so very soothing to know he is dying in agony and humiliation. But I have other things to do. Team meeting.

Don't worry, I will see you in a few hours dear one.

"Demoman, do what you want with zhe Engineer. He is not necessary. Zhe Medic is off limits."

And with that I leave you in the basement room. I wonder how delightfully traumatized you will be when this is over. Will you shatter into a thousand sharp pieces? Or just fracture, threatening to break completely at any moment?

Either way, you will be mine.

Adieu.


	10. Letters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sniper is a cookie thief. Scout is as mature as possible. Spy is a creepy fuck. 
> 
> RED Medic doesn't actually show up.

***From the view point of RED's resident Sniper***

"Whoa! Frenchie's got a letter? Who do ya think it's from?" Scout yelped, crumbs tumbling from his mouth. Lucky kid, getting home-baked goods for Christmas.

I glance over to our resident sadistic freak, but he doesn't seem to notice Scout's cookie-crumb spraying rambles. Odd, since Spy is usually a neat freak on top of being a sadistic psychopath. He looks almost...absorbed by the letter, legs neatly crossed as he reclines in my favorite chair. Not that I really care, as I wander over to swipe a cookie from Scout's gift box.

Mmmm...gingersnaps, delicious.

"Stop stealing my cookies you British fuck!"

"Stop being so easy to steal from chum." I drawl, causally ducking Scout's punch, before walking over to where Spy is and draping myself over the chair back. "What you got there? Love letter?"

Toying with Spy is always a risky proposition, but life isn't fun without risks, and I'm feeling plenty lucky today. Behind me Scout makes a squeaking noise, no doubt remembering the time he tried to yank on Spy's tail.

Medic was stitching up our New York street rat for six hours straight.

"Sister."

"WHAT?" Scout's shrieks, spraying a plume of cookie crumbs three feet in front of himself. "SINCE WHEN DO YOU HAVE FAMILY?"

I blink, having been lost in thought, then stare at Spy. "Your file doesn't say anything about you having a sister."

"Oath-bound." He grunts, gloved fingers shifting through the pages with practiced ease. I can't help but feel a little bit jealous, grace is not one of my strong points. He notes my bemused expression and Scout's look of utter confusions and sighs, apparently taking pity on us. "Sworn siblings. Not blood related."

He flips to the next page of his letter, then gives both of us a terrifyingly content smile, "Little brat is threatening to kill me." I'll be damned, he sounds almost proud of the fact.

"What else is new?" Scout snaps, obviously covering up his fear with false bravado. "Everyone on BLU threatens to kill you all the time." I nod, keeping an eye on Spy, since you never know when he is going to flip out and stab the nearest person.

Spy waves away the comment, chuckling slightly. "Yes, people threaten to kill me all zhe time, but how many threaten to kill me by feeding me starving hamsters." He snorts, flipping to another page of the letter. "Ah, allow me to correct myself, 'starving dwarf hamsters'." A laugh that isn't all that sane spills from his lips, making me shiver slightly.

Well damn. From the expression on Spy's face he actually cares about the girl. I'm not sure if that is terrifying or heartwarming.

I think I'll go with terrifying.

XxXxX

"You are sure zhat zhe BLUz vill be getting a new Medic?"

"I am sure of it. My information source is highly trustworthy. BLU team will be receiving a new Medic in four days. Just as we will be receiving our new Engineer."

"Good, I vill alert zhe rest of zhe team. Now get out, I haf zhings to do!"


	11. Deception

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spy is that asshole who drinks the last of the communal coffee and doesn't make more.

Ah my dear BLU Medic, did you miss me?

Now, now, don't hiss at me. I have such delightful news for you. It will surely bring a smile to your face.

Well, it brought a smile to my face.

You do look better, not so thin and weak. Those force feedings were a good idea, I must remember to thank Medic for giving me the appropriate equipment. It wouldn't do for you to starve to death, now would it?

Skin is such a delightful canvas, especially one as fine as yours. Those skin creams and treatments are very effective, don't you think? Who would have thought that Soldier would know such things. I suppose that is to be expected when one's mother is a spa worker.

Ah...I am getting off track.

Are you trying to bite me? So you do have some spirit left! Wonderful, so I have not broken you after all.

Of course, it wouldn't be fun it you shattered so easily. It is nice to know that I still have my old touch, it would be a shame if my ability to find lovely toys, like yourself, withered away on this barren battlefield.

Don't worry my dear, I won't get rid of you anytime soon, jewels like you are to be savored slowly.

But yes! My news.

Seems as though your team has given up on you. Even that darling little Pyro of yours has given up on ever rescuing you. They are rather disgusted with you, if burning your gear is any indication.

Yes, yes, they destroyed everything. Little Blue Pyro even lit the fire, with a certain amount of visceral satisfaction if I may be so bold. The little brat even threw in a scarf of some sort, ratty looking thing, white with blue pluses. It wasn't important was it?

Oh? It was? I feel for you. I truly do.

Breaking bonds and betraying oaths is the most exquisite kind of pain. Enjoy it, such delicate agony is to be treasured.

You don't like it one bit, do you. Just as well, it takes a refined palate to truly enjoy such things. Don't worry my dear BLU Medic, I will teach you to enjoy the fruits of betrayal.

What have you done to deserve this? Why, you don't remember?

Ah...of course you would not remember, those drugs that Medic used were rather powerful. They did not impede your performance at all, I am pleased to say.

You are very good my dear BLU Medic, or should I say, my dear Ex-BLU Medic. No, that is not quite right, since you are still technically a BLU. But you were very enjoyable none the less.

What did you do? Hm...should I tell you? Or should I just show you?

I'll perhaps have Demoman show you the video later, perhaps not.

You have a vague idea of what happened now, I assume.

The way that you whimpered and begged...ah it was divine. All that raw want and pain, but no fear, none of the fear that you are showing me now. You were so very hot and slick...writhing against the floor.

I enjoyed it so much.

And the screams...you are so very loud when in the grips of passion. You get so tight, like you never want for me to leave... Do you remember now? It was truly a wonderful experience, one that will happen again.

Look at the time...I must cut our visit short.

Till later my dear BLU Medic.

Adieu.

XxXxXxX

***Sniper's viewpoint...again***

"You feeding the poor bastard a bunch of lies again?" I asked, reaching for the coffee pot while Spy practically pranced into the kitchen.

"Nonzense, I speak only zhe truth." Our resident psycho purred, snagging the coffee pot out of my hands and pouring himself a cup, complete with cream. Fitting since he looked like a cat that got into the cream.

"Riiiiiiight..." From the corner of my eye, I noticed our new Engineer inch into the kitchen, body tense and ready to flee. "Hey, Kitten."

The brat squeaked and vanished so fast I could have sworn he teleported, if that was physically possible. Which it is...now that I think about it.

"Feh...zhat is our new Engineer? I have zeen stray cats with more courage." Spy commented, looking only mildly interested.

"Why do you think we nicknamed him Kitten?"

"Ah...as always, I am astounded by your pathetic attemptz at humor." He sniffed, giving me a look that would have a lesser man melting into a puddle of self-despising good. "And why iz it zhat you doubt me? I did nozing more zhan tell our dear prisoner zhe truth."

"Let's see...oh, I know, you went to the BLU compound and accidentaly set his room on fire when taunting the BLU Pyro. Or maybe it was the fact that you put a sexual twist on everything you told the BLU? All you did to him was overload his nervous system so he was in more pain then most of us will ever feel in a life time. Sure he was writhing on the floor...in agony, and trying to break your hand cause you were taunting him with painkillers."

Spy gave me a disapproving sigh. "Zhat was a very delicate cocktail of drugz, it iz much more complex zhan what you said." He gave me a pat on the cheek and waltzed out of the kitchen, hips swaying like a damn woman. "Don't forget to make anozer pot of coffee, dear Sniper, we are all out."

"Son of a bitch."


	12. Filler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter in wish I attempted to add story and an interesting character.
> 
> Spoilers: It doesn't happen.

***Sniper is too sane for this team.***

"Yo, Kitten." Scout chirps (no other word for the sounds the boy makes), causing our new Engineer to twitch. "What you think about tits?"

"...Excuse me?" Kitten looks up, eyes half hidden by dark bangs, bare hands pausing over some sort of Sentry part. He's a pretty good Engineer, at least, as far as I can tell. Never did like working with machines. My rifle not included. The workshop is a lot neater from when our old Engineer was using it, now there is plenty of tabletop space to work with. Or in Scout and my case, sit on.

He was pretty skittish the first few weeks, but he's settled down now. It's nice to have someone on the team who isn't a psychotic, though he has to be at least a little crazy to put up with us. Kitten is so seemingly mentally stable compared to the rest of us I'm almost afraid to know what he's hiding. You don't get sent here unless there is something wrong with you that science can't fix.

And Scout is very, very loud.

"Tits. Jugs. B-O-O-B-S. You know, those things attached to women?" I try not to snort in amusement at the wild gestures Scout is making. He looks like he's trying to juggle water balloons. Or having a seizure, either one is possible.

"I don't care for them. At least, not at the size that you seem to attempting to illustrate." Kitten snaps. I can feel my eyebrows creeping upwards, since this is the first time that I've ever heard the man sound irritated. "Scout, if you are going to be loud and disruptive, go and bother someone else."

Scout might be reckless and dumber than a brick at times, but the Boston street rat isn't a fool. I don't think he's ever left a room so quietly and politely. To be fair though, I have to say that Spy has had a rather large impact on the boy.

"Should I leave?"

"No need, both of you are much better companions than Scout."

"Both of...?" I groan when I realize what he means. "Well fuck."

"Not happy to know zhat I am here dear Sniper?" Spy drawls, shimmering into view on the table opposite of me. He's sitting cross-legged and smoking, grinning like some demented Cheshire cat. How the hell I didn't smell the cigarette smoke is something beyond my comprehension. Okay, the workshop smells like metal and machine grease, but that shouldn't be enough to cover the scent of cigarettes. "Your nose iz growing dull."

"It isn't a real cigarette." Kitten says, apparently focused on his work again. "Spy, don't waste the battery life."

I shudder as Spy laughs, clearly amused by our Engineer. I swear that every time that damn Frenchie laughs, a baby is drowned in boiling oil. Actually, I'm sure that happens when he laughs, along with grandparents dying and adorable puppies contracting rabies. "As you wish, Chaton. As you wish." The cigarette blinks out of existence, making me wonder how much tinkering Kitten had to do to make the hologram.

Wait. Why would Kitten bother...I do not want to think about it. Nope. Not at all.

I think I'm going to regret asking. But, I got to know. And fuck you, you sadistic fuck, stop staring at me. Yes, I get that I'm making some weird pained expression, no need to rub in the fact that you like making people squirm.

Asshole.

"Since when did you two become friends...?"

Kitten doesn't even bother answering me, waving in Spy general direction before doing something involving connecting circuits that I'm not qualified to explain.

"Well...it iz an interezting tale..." Spy sounds like he's savoring every word and slathering them in crazy. I make the mistake of looking at the jackass and meeting his eyes. Good fucking God I don't like the way he's looking at me.

"Actually...I remembered I have to...clean my rifle. It's getting dirty. Right. Talk to you later Kitten." Sure, running away is undignified, but I'm all for preserving what little sanity I have left.

XxXxXxX

Well, that was interesting, don't you agree Chaton? It is too bad that our dear Sniper did not stay, I would have gladly told him how we became friends.

You give me a snort of amusement as an answer while continuing your work, hands skillfully completing the machine part before you.

I doubt he would have been able to appreciate it though. He is very much a straight laced Englishman.

I suppose you are willing to come along today? When you are finished with your work. Such a diligent worker you are Chaton, so devoted to your job. Understandable, give your...mentality.

Now, now, don't give me that look dear one. You know I have no spite for you. You are ever so helpful to me.

I do so love the way that my dear BLU Medic begs you to help him. He still has not realized that you like watching him suffer. I am just as surprised as you are, but I suppose he does have quite a few choice drugs clouding his mind.

Fate was a kind mistress when introducing us to each other.

"I'll be finished in about an hour, I'll join you then." You murmur, dismissing me with a absentminded wave.

Very well Chaton. Do not be late.

For now I bid you adieu.


	13. Discussion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to our regular program: RED Spy being a crazy, creepy man. 
> 
> And a nickname for the Engineer already nicknamed Kitten.

My dear BLU Medic, how are you doing today?

Excellent, I'm most pleased to know you are well.

I suppose saying you are "well" is a bit of a stretch, after all you haven't fully recovered from our last session.

It was quite delightful.

The delicate trickling of blood over flesh. The gentle music of a slowing pulse. The unstoppable chill of life leaving a body.

It was all art.

You are art.

My dear Chaton thought so. He was so fascinated, wasn't he? Stroking your hair and watching you fade away, his eyes so focused on your lovely dark eyes.

Do not worry my dear, I did not bring the boy with me this time. He has other...engagements.

No, no...nothing so obscene. You have quite the imagination dear Medic, I can appreciate such qualities in a man.

While I do enjoy the boy's company, he is still too restricted. He has such potential; it is a pity that his upbringing was so regimented.

Now, now, do not give me that look. I am doing the boy a favor, setting him free of the chains that society has placed on him. He will be much happier when he is truly free.

I suppose you fear him.

Do not fear my dear, I will never replace you. You are slowly regaining your position on the pedestal that you deserve to stand upon.

As for Chaton...I do not touch him, my touch is reserved for you alone. Do you understand how precious you are to me? You are a treasure among all the chaff, the pearl in this herd of swine. The new Engineer is simply...a passing amusement.

I cannot focus all my attention on you, not yet at least.

Breaking you is not something I wish to do.

Not anymore at least.

It is interesting how one can change their own mind given time.

Never mind, that is besides the point.

I will bring the boy with me next time, I did promise him a treat.

Adieu, till next time my dear BLU Medic.


	14. Envy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suspense...kinda. 
> 
> Disturbed characters being disturbed. 
> 
> Such squick. Much creepy. Very kink. Doge.

The way he touches you makes me sick.

He has no right to touch you. No right at all.

You are mine.

My Medic. My teammate.

Mine.

He dares to lavish you with his attentions. As if he can erase the loyalty you have for my team with simple torture.

He does not know how wrong he is.

I hate watching him touch you. I hate sitting by and pretending to enjoy the things he does to you.

He has no right to touch my things.

But I will wait.

Now is not the time to strike. He doesn't trust me yet, but he will.

And once he does...I will have his eyes for my collection and you back where you belong.

XxXxXxX

My dear BLU Medic you don't look well.

Just a few more days my dear and I will let you rest.

You aren't quite at the point of beauty that I wish to see you at. I know that it takes a while, but that makes the reward all the much sweeter.

How do you like the shock collar? It is not too tight I hope.

Such a wonderful invention, eliminating the need for me to break one of your bones or burn your lovely skin. That is what I would usually do to keep you from sleeping, but this is so much better.

The shocks feel good don't they.

Sharp pain that melts into a lingering ache, the screams of overstimulated muscles, the fear of losing control over your own body.

Exquiste.

I do apologize for gagging you. While I adore your screams, I cannot have you biting off your tongue.

Now that is a delightful thought.

Perhaps I will cut your tongue off sometime. Let you writhe and choke on your own blood then have my Medic repair you. While you gurgle on your own blood I will hold you and carve glorious lines into your flesh. You will writhe so beautifully, skin slick with sweat and muscles taut, it is enough to make me desire you.

Yes...I like that idea.

Aaah...I must cut this visit short less I do something that ruins your current state of beauty. You are a work of art in progress and I will not mar you with my impatient desires.

Till later dear Medic, adieu.


End file.
